19.9.13

starting character constructions and introductions. any thoughts? this is one of the first ones.

As she woke and slowly rose up from her bedside, it shortly felt as though she would be swallowed by the black abyssal pressure surrounding her. She knew not from where the pressure was coming, thick like sheets of black smoke, but it was there, and she could feel it’s shadowy breath at the back of her neck, slowly, getting closer, tighter, more thickly wrapping around her with each passing second. Although nothing was to be seen, the feeling held so thick to her face, arms, and nape that she thought, for brief seconds, that she would suffocate. Yet in those seconds of suffocation, clarity came, and before her stood the figure of a boy. Jetting slowly from side to side was his figure, with a sense of translucency her eyes could barely acknowledge. yet she seemed to feel as though she recognized this boy, no, this fetch of a boy. Whom she seemed to know, but from where she could not take the slightest guess.
Quickly, at the coming of this realization, the gliding resemblance, caved on itself like smoke wafting from flame to air, and drifted with haunting sway towards the door, reforming in part, the fetch seemed to speak. As the smokey form of his upper body moved on itself like a living flame, the air, torn with the ripping screech of his voice on the wind, seemed to force her back a little as she seemed not as much to hear, but feel his words. “Make haste my lady! all is not yet lost!” and with this, confusion shattered her resolve.
She flew at him, violently lashing her hands at him, like the end of a dancing whip. Yet he did not vanish, as she had childishly hoped that he might. Yet instead folded on himself, once again, like the living cloud of boy and smoke that he was. Into halls still black with shivering darkness, before the crack of dawn.Through the eleven toothlike towers of the ancient labyrinthian mouth, into the foot of the mountain. Where the older gods dance, like wraiths borne on shadow, to the faint rattling of old bones.
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Pierced by the light, her eyes swelled to the point of blindness as she poured herself through the avenues and alleyways, the endless lengths of running tunnel. That sat deep beneath the castles bases and foundations. Deep beneath the earth, into the halls of old.
Although she had entered at ground level, true ground level. Below the sea temple steps, yet above the craggy edge of the winter sea, its depth’s lay brooding over the rocks at the foot of the holy hills of the seaman’s God. She now coursed the tunnels deeper and deeper, and in the darkness of those ancient corridors, she began to lose sight of the fetch. He was traveling with raucous speed. Lashing through the corridors, only to slash back violently into her path. Never leaving her far behind, yet always seeming to be just out of sight. As quickly as it had started, the pursuit was ended. As the lady of the sea temple set her bare feet softly into the waters of the pool.
At first she was duly unaware both of what had truly taken place, and what was to come next. Before she could process a thought on either topic, her eyes began to adjust, and with the clarity she found, all thought ceased. She was perplexed. Avidly focused on the wonder unfolding before her very eyes. Unaware of herself, she had waded to a waist high level in the glassy waters of the pool. Yet by some magic, no ripple had stirred as she broke the waters glassy surface. Her thin, yet lightly clothed body, seemed to slide into the water effortlessly, and with no resistance. Despite the bitter temperatures of the place, and the waters themselves. The thin cotton of her sleeping dress was barely any kind of barrier against the murky cold of the darkened chamber, nor the ice of this forbidden lake. Yet, she felt no cold.
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The boy sat cross legged in his smoky composure on the surface of the lake. She had come up rather near him now, and as he folded on himself, the room woke around him. With him, from him. With a brilliant display of terrifying knowledge, his mouth opened. A fiercely brilliant and nearly blinding light poured forth. Almost leapt out of every darkened fold, and layer of his smoking composition, as if it, also, had been a living creature. To and from every direction, came a low rumbling sound, no, a note. softly at first, but deeply throated, and heavily bound to the room that held it. As if spoken, and hymned by a thousand voices, instead of the visible one that lay before her. The notes began to tremble, to resonate slowly, yet immensely inside the dank and earthen walls of this unknown fortress, deep beneath the mountain. A fortress of formidable strength in it’s own right.
As the reverberations bounced feverishly around the room, like so many tiny bouncing balls, in an endlessly moving box. The vibrations slowly reached into her chest, and worked their way into every niche of her soul. They soaked through every inch of her body. Traversing at lightening speed her entire being. Softly separating her, from the self she had always known, and creating within herself, a new awareness. An awareness of the self she had always felt herself to be, and with the crisp, yet fluid opening of this internal door. Vision swallowed her, like the final speck of light, in total, encompassing darkness.